She Wouldn't Be Gone
by SpeakNow1118
Summary: Oneshot Songfic to Blake Shelton's "She Wouldn't Be Gone." Jace is the rich, handsome guy that every girl wants to be with. Clary is the girlfriend who has had enough. AU/AH/Slightly OOC


Jace mutely looked down at the flowers he'd brought home. Simple red carnations, they were the cheapest bunch he could find. Money wasn't a huge problem with him, but spending money on stupid things never really seemed like a good idea to him. He'd waltzed in the door, tossing the flowers nonchalantly on the table as if this was completely ordinary; as if he showered her with gifts all the time.

He'd called her name a few times; she was always home if she wasn't at work. She only had three friends. After a few minutes, he was pissed. This wasn't like her. He'd stormed into the kitchen and slumped down at the table, only to see a small slip of paper.

_Ahh. She probably went grocery shopping or something._

Jace scanned the note, only to go back and re-read it four more times.

_Jace,_

_You've put me through hell the last few years. I gave you plenty of chances to change, but you always ignored them. I guess you don't see just how much I love you. Or maybe you don't really love me. Either way, I'm leaving. Don't try to look for me, it'll be pointless. I'm done with you._

_Goodbye._

_Clary._

Red roadside wild flower if I'd only picked you  
>Took you home set you on the counter<br>Oh, at least a time or two  
>Maybe she'd thought it through.<p>

Jace stood up and walked to the windowsill in disbelief. The sun had just begun to set, painting Brooklyn in beautiful shades of gold and red. She loved sitting and watching the sunset. She'd sketched and painted countless sunsets. A few of her favorites were hanging in the bedroom. She'd sold some for quick cash. But mostly, she had given her stunning artworks away. Why hadn't he ever stopped and watched them with her? Hadn't she asked hundreds of times? Why hadn't he listened to and cherished her? An actual, physical ache burned in his chest. He was so self-centered. He constantly made smart remarks about his attractiveness, but when was the last time he had told her that she was beautiful?

Yellow sunset slowly dipping down in the rear view  
>Oh, how she'd love to sit and watch you<br>I could have done that a whole lot more  
>If I hadn't been so stubborn, been so selfish<br>Thought about her more, thought about me less  
>Joked and made her laugh, held her when she cried<br>A little more that.. Maybe I...

He flew from the apartment. He _had _to find her. He had to make her see that he needed her. She was necessary to his survival. He ripped the engine of his motorcycle to life and roared from the garage. Weaving dangerously in and out of traffic, Jace screamed her name, calling for her over and over again. He stopped at the museums, the park, and the coffee shop she loved. Streams of salty tears coursed over his face. He was crying. Actually crying. He hadn't cried in years, and this beautiful, redheaded woman that he loved with a passion and ferocity that scared him was making him bawl like a baby. 

Wouldn't be driving like hell flying like crazy down the highway  
>Calling everyone we know stopping any place she might be<br>Going any place she might go beating on the dash  
>Screaming out her name at the windshield tears soaking up my face<br>If I had loved her this much all along, maybe, maybe, yeah maybe...  
>She wouldn't be gone. She wouldn't be gone. <p>

Didn't she warn him? Over the last six months, her mantra had been, "Jace, I'm leaving. I can't handle this anymore." She'd actually stormed from the apartment once before, but she hadn't taken anything – not even her purse – so he knew that she was coming back. Clary had come back within three hours, and that night, she had made up for leaving him angry. He closed his eyes as he remembered that night. He'd felt so close to her, like a normal boyfriend should. He hadn't seen the warning signs. Hadn't paid attention. He regretted it now. He ripped the cell phone from his pocket, angrily punching her mother's number into it. They spoke for only a few moments, but Jocelyn knew nothing about their fight or where Clary might be. He called Simon. Same conversation.

He called Isabelle. Same conversation.

He called Maia. Same conversation.

He started screaming obscenities at the wind, pounding the handlebars of his bike in frustration. He cried some more. He screamed. He kept looking. He just wanted to apologize. He wanted to steal her away, make her see that he knew how foolish he'd been. He wanted to take her home, sweep her off her feet and make passionate love to her so he could show her once and for all that she really was the love of his life.

She warned me it was coming said if I didn't change  
>She was leaving<br>I just didn't believe she would ever really walk out,  
>God, I believe her now<br>Called her mamma, cried like a baby to her best friend  
>If they've seen her, they ain't sayin', they ain't sayin'...<br>Now, I'm cursing like a fool, praying it ain't too late  
>All I wanna do is fix my mistakes.<p>

Find her beg her for one more try, until then damn it I'll.  
>Be driving like hell flying like crazy down the highway<br>Calling everyone we know stopping any place she might be  
>Going any place she might go beating on the dash<br>Screaming out her name at the windshield tears soaking up my face  
>If I had loved her this much all along, maybe maybe, yeah maybe...<br>She wouldn't be gone.

I wouldn't be beating on the dash  
>Screaming out her name at the windshield tears soaking up my face<br>If I had loved her this much all along, maybe maybe, yeah maybe...  
>She wouldn't be gone.<p>

A month went by. Two months. Three months. He was rapidly spiraling downwards. He was close to being fired and evicted from his apartment. He'd lost weight, and he feared that the deep, dark shadows underneath his eye would be permanent. He drank a lot, trying in vain to douse the flames of the shadows that haunted him. Eight months went by before he saw her again. She was in a coffee shop, grabbing a large, black coffee to go. She took a long pull and ran out the door. Her small body collided with his, and she fell to the ground. Neither one realized it was the other for a moment. He knelt down to help her gather her art supplies, and she wouldn't stop apologizing for being so clumsy. They looked up at the same time, their eyes connecting like one of those stupid, sappy movies she'd always loved so much. He expected her to fall in his arms and swoon over him, but he was sorely surprised. She stood up stiffly and thanked him for his help. He nodded, dumbstruck, and handed her the kit of art supplies. When she reached out to take it from him, he froze. On the third finger of her left hand, there was a ring. A gold band with a diamond the size of Africa on it. He stared at it until she jerked the bag from him.

"You're getting married?" He asked, still in shock. "When did that happen?"

"About a month ago," she answered coolly, "His name is Beck."

What he wanted to say was, "What the hell, Clary? How can you just turn your back on us? I damn sure haven't. What is wrong with you?" He wanted to scream and cry and throw a tantrum.

What actually came out of his mouth was, "Congratulations."

She blinked, surprised. "Thank you." And with that, she turned and walked away.

He watched the papers for three months. Finally, he saw what he was looking for. On the front page of the society section, the headline screamed, "Popular Artist Clarissa Fray Has Dream Wedding to Federal Agent Beck Cartwright." He skimmed the article, reading about the "magnificent, flowing white dress," and the "hundreds of tea lights that floated gently on the picturesque pond." He read part of the interview the reporter conducted and wasn't surprised to see that they "were excited to finally be able to focus on starting a family." They wanted three children. Jace closed his eyes and laid his head on the table in front of him.

Looks like Clary finally got what she deserved.

Red roadside wild flower if I'd only picked you  
>Took you home set you on the counter, oh at least a time or two<br>Maybe she'd thought it through...

…

…

…

**I'm feeling very angsty today. I'm also in a one-shot mood. **

**Yes, this Beck is the same Beck that is in **_**City of Resentful Angels.**_** I figured, if I had him, why not use him?**

**Review. Press that button and review. I'm also aware that you may want to add this story to your favorites.**

**I don't mind at all.**

***wink wink***

**I know. I'm arrogant. But it's one AM and I am really tired. **

**Just humor me. **

**I'll shut up now.**

**Story recommendation is **

_**The Truth About Forever**_** by Love From Hell.**

**It's excellent, a bit like **_**Soulmate**_** in the Nightworld series. Jace and Clary fall in love during different lifetimes. Some of the stories have happy endings, some are tragic. Either way, give it a read.**

**Peace and Love,**

**SpeakNow1118**


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